I step off the bus with ten others into the summoning darkness. Having been drafted into the military a few months ago where I underwent non-stop training, I am now being sent to the front.

I have no idea what I am up against - only my gun and bayonet give me comfort. I hear the artillery in the distance and am eager to finally kill some heartless Brits. But I am still homesick for the farm and family I was forced to leave behind.

After walking for what seemed like hours I catch the first whiff of the stench of dead. Within a few minutes I am on my hands and knees with some other recruits, supplies tossed aside, vomiting in front of a pile of dead. The guide behind me yells at us to keep moving and we are forced to pick up our guns and backpacks and walk on. Every so often a man has to stop and puke into the bushes by the narrow path we are walking on.

After checking in this morning, we make our way to Squadron E for further orders. We reach the dugout we are ordered to go to and are confronted by a group of filthy looking men with mud-splattered uniforms and angry faces.

“You must be the new recruits,” says one guy, sitting on a pile of rocks with a cigar in hand.

“More boys than soldier,” says another sitting playing cards on a flat stone with a few others.

“We were told to report to Squadron E,” says Mason, another young man who was also drafted to fight against the Brits.

“Well, looks like u found the right place,” Says the man with the cigar. “I’m John, your new Squadron leader, and you have your first watch tonight, but ‘til then, make yourself comfortable. We have this and the next three dugouts to ourselves, go find a place to rest your head. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

I crawl into a hole on the side of a dugout feeling totally exhausted. I am feeling utterly lonely, even with Mason in the hole next to mine. After hours of rolling around, listening to the artillery, I finally manage to fall asleep.
I wake up what seems like seconds later to the gruff voice of John yelling at us to get up. I crawl out of my hole feeling as sore as if I had just run forty miles. I grab my gun and bayonet and follow John through the labyrinth of dugouts, while crowds of Germans all move all around going to new stations. When I finally reach my post, I climb the wooden ladder and lay down in the fog of dirt next to the man who called us “boys” earlier.

“Most Greenies don’t last long on their first watch,” he says as he slides the magazine into his gun, “Usually they start to shoot at random trees claiming they saw a Brit in camo."

I chuckle but am too nervous to respond. After all the training I am finally here. I am finally lying down, in the dirt, with a gun, fighting in this infinite bloody war that should’ve ended years ago. A shiver goes down my spine. Then another. I start to shake. After around thirty minutes it begins to grow dark. I see someone. Light skin and dark uniform. I see the man crawl towards us.  A Brit! Now I can distinctly see the Lee Gun in his hand and the bayonet glimmering at the end. I look towards Mason two people to my left. He too is shaking. I can hear my blood pumping through my ears, my heart pounding through my chest. I look at Mason again, his gun shaking, then back at the front only to see the Brit gone. I panic for a second, but then saw a log on the ground in his place. I was just cursing myself for being so scared that I was mistaking logs for people when I see him again. Closer this time. A millisecond later I hear a burst of gunfire to my right, then more to my left. The bushes start to shoot out return fire ahead of us. A bell is ringing behind me. My head starts to spin. I fall on the ground and throw up. I am pulled back up again by a strong hand.

“Come on, Greenie, now is your chance to do what you came here for.”

I pick up my gun and start shooting like everyone else. I search the bushes for targets and spot a man in camo pop out from behind a stump. I aim and fire, missing him by a long shot. I cursed when I saw the man I had missed shoot down a new recruit to my left. I aimed down the sights of my rifle again, filled with fear and anger. I waited for the Brit to appear over the stump again, like a cat waiting for a mouse to come out of his layer in the wall. My heart pounds as some bullets wiz past my head. I aim down the sights once more and take a deep breath. The Brit pops back up and aims to shoot. As I let out my breath I slowly squeeze the trigger. I hear the blood being pumped through my ears. The gun is pushed back into my shoulder as I see the Brit’s body fly back and lay lifeless on the ground. The world slows to a stop. Then sped up again as a grenade fell to my left. Someone dives on the ground at it, then flesh flies in the air.

“Fall back!” someone by me yells.

One by one the people on the post start take their last shots before running back. I pick up my gun and begin to weave my way back through the labyrinth of trenches to our next battlements. I look back to see the ground explode where I was just lying seconds before. I see a body lying on the ground with the face ripped off by shrapnel, but recognize Mason’s boots his father sent him the day before. I catch a glimpse of John in the swarm of boys, already shooting back at the rushing Brits. I kneel down behind a lump of dirt beside him and aim at the post I had just left.

“We need to give our men time to retreat!” John yells as a grenade went off to my left.

I look at him straight in the eyes. “If I’m gonna die, might as well die defending my country and not running for my life.”

Just then I see the first Brit ascend the Trench wall like a spider crawling his way to his prey tangled in his web. We open fire, prepared to lose our lives. He hits one, I another. Our barrels start to smoke when suddenly I am thrown back with a sharp sting in my shoulder. I pull myself back up and continue shooting. Bullets fly by our heads as I somehow manage to reload my gun with one hand. I fell another punch, this time in my stomach as our wall of dirt is being blown to pieces. I look over to see John covered in blood, but we both continue to fire. One more shot, this time in the chest. I let out my last shots before the world around me blackened.